


Until the End

by HelloTragic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 16:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15976124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloTragic/pseuds/HelloTragic
Summary: Even forever isn't long enough





	Until the End

**Author's Note:**

> Okay people. I used the tag. Major charater death. This is angsty AF and and a little soul crushing. You've been warned.

 

“And you’ll stay with me?”

 

“Until the end.”

 

No one had seen it coming. Only a mile away from his apartment. The sound of brakes squealing. The horn still blaring under the weight of the driver. He’d spent the last month cursing her name for not having fought harder, for not wanting to stay with him. But as the ringing in his ears faded to silence and his body became colder, he started to understand. It was dark out, and he was just so tired.

 

* * *

 

Nerves wracked his body as he tried to dress himself. His fingers shook so badly he’d been forced to leave the top three buttons undone, fancy restaurant dress code be damned. It had taken him ages to get his second chance. A year apart from his Swan had felt like an eternity. 

 

She’d left after a misunderstanding. An unwanted advance from another woman. Emma had walked in just in time to see their lips meet, but she’d been gone again before she could witness the way he’d pushed back against Milah. The rum overflowing in his veins slowing down his reflexes. Two seconds. That was all it had taken to ruin his life.

 

He ran back to their shared apartment, but arrived too late. Her clothes and suitcases were gone already. She’d never been overly sentimental. In fact, there had only ever been two items that ever meant a damn to her. 

 

The swan pendant given to her by an ex. A reminder that everyone left. That eventually everyone would break her heart. That she could never trust anyone.

 

And then there was the ring. A single square cut diamond. What should have been a reminder that he wasn’t Neal. He wasn't going to betray her. He wasn’t going to leave her. He wasn’t ever going to hurt her. Yet there it sat, left on his pillow.

 

He’d called everyone he could think of. None of them had seen or heard from her, or so they said. A cab ride to the hospital where she worked proved to be just as useless. If there was one thing he know about Emma Swan, it was that she didn’t want to be found.

 

Eleven bloody months. Life went on all around him. His friends tried to get him to date. They tried to get him to sleep around. They tried to get him to live, but without Emma, nothing was the same. The bed was too big. Too cold. Too empty. He made too many eggs for breakfast. Brewed too much coffee. He forgot to tell the chinese food place that he had a new usual so they always delivered twice as many egg rolls. He forgot to lock the door to their, no, his apartment, always forgetting she wasn’t coming home soon. He never turned off the lights in the kitchen. 

 

And yet, life went on. He worked, went to set everyday. He went to the bar with everyone on the weekend. He put on his mask when fans stopped him in public for photographs and autographs. Eleven months of living a lie, and he was dying inside.

 

And then he’d seen her, first thinking her an illusion. He’d seen her everywhere in the beginning. Every glint of golden strands, every flash of porcelain skin, every hint of vanilla in the air. She’d been everywhere and nowhere. But in his double take, there was no denying it. It was Emma Swan, the woman who’d vanished off the face of the earth.

 

It was sneaky and underhanded. A bit stalkerish to be honest, but he needed something to grasp to. He needed more than a fleeting sight of her, a rushed argument. He needed more than two seconds with her. So he followed her. He followed her to the coffee shop where she’d bought a hot cocoa with cinnamon. He’d followed her to the drycleaners where she picked up her clothes. He’d found himself relax infantismaly at the fact that it all appeared to be hers and hers alone. And then he followed her to an apartment building. He wasn’t so bold as to follow her into the elevator, but it was enough for him to just know where she was.

 

He’d sent her flowers first. No card, no sender, no way for her to know they were from him. Just a simple bouquet to let her know someone was thinking of her. She looked happy as she emerged from her apartment while he hid at a cafe across the street. 

 

Then he sent her chocolates. Her favorite. There were more flowers. Eventually there were cards, but still no signatures. It healed his heart to see her so happy everyday. It healed it right up until he realized that she was fine without him. She hadn’t been utterly devastated being alone.

 

But then again, she wasn’t alone. At least not when he’d run into her at a restaurant. He’d been there to meet a director, to discuss a vision for a project. She’d been seated near the door though, a man in a suit sat across from her with a look in his eye. A look that said he wanted to devour her. He’d been so stunned he’d walked into a waiter, causing a commotion when a tray full of drinks hit the floor. Shattered glass symbolic of his heart. Her eyes had met his in that instant and everything broke. 

 

He’d been the one to run that time. He heard his name called out by people wanting his picture, but he just needed to get away. For the first time in eleven months a nineteen days, he wanted to put as much distance as possible between him and Emma Swan.

 

He drank. He drank himself into oblivion. David had found him in a pool of his own vomit on the couch after no one had heard from him. Three days of drinking and one shower. Somehow that was supposed to be enough for him to get over Emma Swan. Somehow he was supposed to know that since she had moved on, that he could now too. 

 

Eleven months, twenty two days and forty seven minutes.

 

That’s how long it had been since they’d last spoken. But there she was, standing on the other side of his door, looking as beautiful as ever, while he’d barely managed to throw on some basketball shorts.

 

There were tears in her eyes and they both just stayed frozen, neither able to break the silence. Neither of them able to acknowledge that they were basically strangers now. Finally, he came to his senses, inviting her in. 

 

It was weird and it was hard. Emma told her that David had found her that morning, had tracked her down at the hospital and explained everything. He’d told her about how Milah had kissed  _ him,  _ the  _ he _ hadn’t wanted her to. That  _ he’d _ gone after her that night.

 

She’s explained that she’d left that night. Left the city. Left the country. There had been an offer for Doctors Without Borders. They’d wanted her for her expertise with the small humans, her nickname for the children she treated. They’d asked a number of times, something about Zika and an epidemic. It was overwhelming and he’d only caught bits and pieces, lost in his own mind. She said she’d always turned them down, but when she saw him with Milah, she didn’t think she had a reason to stay.

 

Logically, it made sense. Neal had really hurt her and she had trust issues. But none of that helped. He had gone out of his way to prove himself to her, and it still hadn’t been enough. After everything, she still hadn’t trusted him.

 

She’d been gone nine months. When she moved back, her sabbatical ended, she returned to the hospital. Found a new apartment. Found a new boyfriend. Not that she’d labeled him as such. He was another doctor at the hospital. Someone who’d asked her out before. Someone who’d claimed credit for all of the anonymous gifts that Emma had been receiving. That night in the restaurant had been their second date.

 

Then she dropped the bomb. She wanted him back. She’d never stopped loving him and she made a horrible mistake. She’d made a snap judgement and ruined everything. That she’d do anything to make it up to him. 

 

And he’d asked her to leave.

 

Only eleven months, twenty two days, one hour, and sixteen minutes before he would have been the one pleading. He would have been the one on his knees asking for a second chance. But now, well, now he was broken and he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to try again. He’d never even considered anyone else, but she had. Had he really loved her that much more than she’d loved him? Had he really been so wrong?

 

Eight more days. It had taken eight days of introspection. Eight days of David him reminding him of the fact that Emma had been his everything. Eight days of Mary Margaret texting him pictures of he and Emma together in happier times. Eight days of him thinking about how miserable he’d been without her. 

 

Eleven months, thirty days, thirteen hours, and two minutes had passed since she’d walked out on him. And not another minute would pass without him fighting for her. He’d sent flowers to the hospital, leaving a card that time, asking her to meet him at their spot the next evening.

 

Twelve months to the day since they’d parted, and he’d been just as nervous now as he was on their first date, especially with her old ring weighing down his pocket. He’d hired a car, not wanting to deal with cabs or fans. He just wanted Emma. 

 

The park was only a block away from the restaurant. It’s where they’d met. She’d been sitting on a bench reading a book and she’d been so stunning. He’d been helpless as his body slid down next to hers and he’d struck up a conversation. He’d also accidently spoiled the ending of the book she’d been reading, but he’d been so charming she was willing to overlook it just that once. Her words.

 

Fall had set in. The leaves had begun turning. The temperatures had cooled. And he was alone. The only sounds had been that of the winds whistling through the trees. He shouldn’t have left it the way he did. He should have called her. He should have gone to her apartment or to the hospital. He should have confirmed that she was coming. But he hadn’t, and now he was a bloody fool standing alone in a garden.

 

Then he heard the gunshot, and soon sirens followed. Red lights lit up the street as he made his way back to the world ready to get back into the car he’d hired so he could call it a night, having given up on Emma. There was yelling, a man upset that his kid was dead. Police screaming at him to put the gun down. Two more shots rang out and the man had gone down and that’s when Killian saw it.

 

That’s when he saw  _ her _ .

 

That man had been the father of one of Emma’s patients. He’d been upset that his daughter had died while waiting for a new heart. He’d blamed Emma, followed her from the hospital and confrontedher as she got out of her cab. That’s why she hadn’t shown. 

 

He’d knelt down beside her, holding her frail body against his own, begging her to hold on. He told her the ambulance was coming, that it would be there any minute now. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and slid in onto her finger where it should have always been. He told her that she just needed to fight.

 

She didn’t though. She just gave him a small smile and told him that it would be okay. And then she left him. His body wracked with sobs.

 

They’d buried her after the investigation was over. Hundreds of people had gone to pay their respects. People who had worked with her, people whose children she’d saved. People who’d just read about her life and come out to celebrate her. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever endured. Harder than when he’d lost her twelves months, three weeks, two days, seven hours, and four minutes before. This time there was no hope. She was really gone.

 

The studio had given him off as much time as possible to mourn, but it had reached the point where they were losing money and he was nearing a breach of contract. Not that he’d much cared about the last part though. He’d gone back to filming only because he couldn’t bare to stay in that apartment alone for one more minute. Even after all of that time, she was still everywhere. 

 

The first day back, he’d immersed himself in his role. He’d given it his all trying to lose himself in something other than sorrow and grief. Everyone on set had given him a wide berth. Two more weeks passed in much the same way. Everyone worked grueling hours, often not leaving set until three or four in the morning. His manager had hired him a car to take him home each night, not wanted him to fall asleep behind the wheel. 

 

Not that it mattered.

 

Even with a fully conscious driver, they’d been no match to the drunk driver that had crossed the yellow line, hitting them straight on. The car had rolled and he could smell gasoline. Everything hurt, even with the adrenaline pulsing through his body and he knew it was bad. 

 

And then she’d appeared, sitting in the seat next to him with an angelic glow.

 

She’d whispered in his ear, telling him everything would be alright. That he’d be okay. 

 

He asked her if she was real. She’d asked him if it mattered. 

 

It didn’t.

 

She’d laid her hand over his own, lacing their fingers together. He swore he could actually feel her there with him, that he could smell her perfume. 

 

“Help is coming my love.”

 

Her voice was steady and calming, even as his body became weaker. He heard the sirens in the distance, saw the lights coming closer. He heard the EMT pound on the glass. The muffled ‘hold tight.’

 

The car had been smashed though, and even with the jaws of life they were struggling to get to him. Through it all though, Emma was there with him. With  _ him _ alone.

 

“Shhh, it’s going to be alright.”

 

He’d felt her breath on his cheek. 

 

Yes, he’d spent a month cursing Emma for not fighting, but he was so tired and he almost understood. It was just too hard. Not when he didn’t have anything left to live for. Emma had though.

 

“Why didn’t you fight harder?”

 

He needed to know why he wasn’t enough, why she’d given up so easily.

 

“Oh sweetheart. I couldn’t live in a world without you.”

 

As she said it, she let her palm rest against his chest, over his heart. Hundreds of images flooded through his mind. His entire life had flashed before him in just a second and he knew, just as she must have, that this was always coming. They were never going to have forever. She’d seen all of this coming, knew he wasn’t long for this earth. He wasn’t going to live.

 

“And you’ll stay with me?”

 

“Until the end.”

 


End file.
